


The One Good Thing A Malboro Has Ever Done

by liziscribbles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, I'm Sorry, I'm not really sorry though, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:52:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liziscribbles/pseuds/liziscribbles
Summary: What if, sometimes, malboro-breath doubles as an aphrodisiac?





	1. The Experienced

**Author's Note:**

> GOOD LORD I AM SO SORRY FOR THIS TERRIBLE IDEA.
> 
> Apparently, how I cope with emotional fic is to write smut. WELP.
> 
> EDITED TO ADD: My very favorite person, [IntoThePensieve](http://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoThePensive), has created a [moodboard](http://i.imgur.com/2enDajt.jpg) to go along with this and it made me flail like an absolute fool.
> 
> Also, I've kind of comprised a mini (two song) soundtrack to go alongside it!  
> First chapter: [Sex On Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RF0HhrwIwp0) by Kings of Leon.  
> Second chapter: [Start A Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ma2nfetVV-s) by Ryan Star.

The fight was normal, at least insofar as a fight with a malboro can be normal. They'd gone through more than a few remedies, as the whole group was in the strike zone for a breath attack, but they'd come out on the other side none the worse for wear. Ignis' skin was still a little bit—a _lot_ —itchy as he made his way back to camp, but other than that, all systems seemed to be go. 

At least that was what he thought.

For all the times he'd told Noctis not to scratch when his skin itched like this, he couldn't seem to help rubbing at his arms with gloved hands. It was odd. His skin didn't _appear_ any different than usual, nor did it look out of the ordinary in general, but he couldn't help but rub at it open-palmed to try and get rid of the irritation. As he strode up the hill to get to camp and begin preparing dinner, he couldn't help but notice that the itching changed to a bit of a crawling feeling. He kept things under wraps as best he could, but from the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice that Gladio seemed to be experiencing a similar discomfort.

In all the years that Ignis had known him, he had never been terribly adept at hiding when he was suffering physical discomfort. Pain, sure. All the bruises and aches that Ignis had tended to over the years, if enumerated, could easily run past normal human counting ability. But put the man in discomfort as simple as itching, and he turned into a veritable twelve-year-old. Admittedly, Ignis had always found it equal parts silly... and endearing.

But what was there to hide? The pair had been in a relationship for far, far longer than Ignis ever expected their relationship to last. It had initially started as something casual; a way to blow off steam when there was less time in the day than there was steam to blow off. They'd had private time in Gladio's bedroom, moments on the back balcony of Ignis' apartment, and more recently (and slightly more excitingly) trysts in the woods a ways from camp. Those were somewhat difficult to hide from Noctis and Prompto, but they'd managed so far.

And for some odd, inexplicable reason, thinking of those romantic trysts had Ignis' skin tingling instead of the crawling it had been doing.

He spared a glance Gladio's way, to see Gladio looking back at him, and cleared his throat. "I dare say you look rather discomposed, Gladio," he announced in a hushed whisper. Noctis and Prompto were far enough back not to hear, despite being oddly quiet for the pair of them, and had Ignis been in control of his senses, he probably would have wondered about that.

As it stood, he couldn't have cared less.

"Look who's talkin'," Gladio responded, his gruff voice holding a very familiar tone. "You're lookin' a little bit out of it yourself, Iggy."

A fair assessment. 'Out of it' was definitely fair. From itching to crawling, crawling to tingling, tingling to... very, very warm, Ignis' whole body was confusing him quite thoroughly. "Indeed," he responded. "At first I thought that perhaps it was a side effect from the malboro's breath." A side effect that, of course, he'd never encountered or read of before... but it was a simple enough explanation in the moment. "But now I'm not so sure."

Initially, Gladio only responded with a chuckle. "You often get hot and bothered from malboro attacks?" he asked, a tiny hint of amusement behind his hungry tone.

Ignis huffed. "I should say not," he responded, aiming for incredulity but falling short. "Though I don't think you should be talking, if that tone of voice is what I recognize it to be." A knowing smirk crossed his face. Behind his words was an accusation. _If anyone's hot and bothered,_ his eyes said, _it's very much you._

"What're you thinkin'?" Gladio asked—demanded, almost—casting his eyes behind him to catch a glimpse at Noctis and Prompto.

Ignis' eyes followed. Both the prince and his best friend looked uncomfortable in their own right, but for once, Ignis' own body wouldn't let his concern about Noctis take charge. "I think," he intimated, "that we need to go check that nearby funguar patch we found, for mushrooms. For dinner."

Gladio's singular nod was the only response he needed, and he turned to look at the others with an attempt at a calm expression. "Gladio and I are going to go to the brush over there," he announced, pointing toward the nearby bushes with another nod. "There were some mushrooms that I found in there earlier that I think would be perfect for dinner." He cast a glance between Noctis and Prompto, and was sorely tempted not to wait for an answer.

But Prompto gave one. "Do, um... do you need help?" he asked, his voice a little bit choked.

"No!" Gladio responded, a little too quickly. A little too fervently. "No," he repeated, calmer this time. "Thanks. I think, uh... I think the two of us should be able to get it—them—the mushrooms—just fine."

Hardly the composed Gladio that he'd always known, but somehow that made Ignis all the more eager to get out of company and into privacy. Perhaps not the most subtle response, but Ignis took off in a half-run toward the treeline. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gladio moving rather swiftly as well. He was hardly the smallest person, but he could move as swiftly and agilely as Ignis himself if the situation presented itself. Ignis had seen this exact situation present itself more than a few times in the past.

They were barely to the trees when a hand reached out and grabbed Ignis by the shoulder. Ignis turned, only to be pulled flush against Gladio's familiar body, and have Gladio's familiar lips crushed against his in a bruising kiss—a kiss that knocked the breath clean out of his lungs—but he couldn't have cared less if he tried. His hands reached around, grabbing hold of Gladio's ass and pulling him closer. In the closeness, he could feel Gladio's interest pressing against him, and his own interest grew even more in response.

With a grunt of half-satisfaction, Gladio looked down at Ignis, eyes twinkling eagerly. "Not sure why, but I couldn't wait until tonight..." he intoned.

The only response verbal response he could give in the moment was an agreeing grunt, as he reached down for the buckle of Gladio's belt. Maybe he should have been embarrassed by the fact that a man as eloquent as he usually was couldn't come up with anything to say beyond a primal noise of approval. At the moment, though, he wasn't. His brain was fogged over and his body was overtaken by the discomfort that came along with this intense an arousal.

Fortunately, the belt was one that Ignis was familiar with the machinations to, so he made swift work of opening it, the metallic scraping noises catching his attention. He glanced down and watched his own hands work for a second, then moved to the button of Gladio's jeans. He could almost see the vague relief on his lover's face when the tightness of his pants was released a little bit. The interest, of course, hadn't waned, but at the very least it wasn't trapped in far-too-tight-to-be-fair jeans anymore. His boxer briefs clearly outlined exactly how eager he was, and Ignis' teeth raked over his lower lip.

Gladio, with jeans pooled around his ankles, backed Ignis into a nearby tree, before hitting his knees in the grass and making quick work of unbuttoning Ignis' pants. He smirked. "I like it when you go commando," he mused.

A breath of laughter was Ignis' initial response—and his _only_ response, too, because in the same second, Gladio has reached into his pants. The warmth against his interest made his breath hitch, but he didn't suffer for long, because Gladio's mouth surrounded him shortly thereafter. One of Ignis' hands gripped the trunk of the tree as best he could, and the other came to rest in Gladio's hair. A quiet sigh escaped, as his head rolled back to hit the tree. The clouds rolled past his vision for a second before the heat, moisture and pressure of Gladio's mouth around him made him slide them closed.

"Incredible," he whispered into the sky. "Feels... incredible." Heat still crawled throughout his body like some kind of virus, but Gladio's attentions felt so amazing that it was easy to ignore. Easi _er_ , anyway.

A hum of a response around his length made him breathe a shuddering breath and chuckle a single note. "Not fair," he gasped. Gladio knew exactly how much he loved that, and was doing it just to torment him.

Ignis was usually a man of stamina. But between the initial, still unexplained, haze that he'd felt since returning to camp and the eagerness Gladio seemed to be displaying, too, his stamina was left wanting, and he found himself nearing the precipice far faster than usual. "Gladio, I'm... I'm afraid that I can't..." It was supposed to be a warning, that he was near the edge, but he wasn't sure if it came off that way at all.

That was, until Gladio made another soft humming noise—one of encouragement this time—not moving his mouth off of Ignis' flesh. That was enough to make Ignis' eyes flutter closed again, as waves of elation worked their way through his body. His knees buckled, and he felt the cool air of the outdoor breeze hitting his most sensitive area as it fell from Gladio's mouth. Gladio's hands on his hips, supporting him, were the only things keeping him from falling to the ground. Not only that, but the discomfort he'd been feeling was completely and totally replaced with the haze of post-coital high. Gladio, though, seemed to still be quite uncomfortable.

A gentle laugh escaped, and he flicked his eyes down to his love's. "Now," he breathed, still trying to find air as he came down from climax. "I see that you're still in a great deal of discomfort. Why don't we-" He paused long enough to help Gladio to his feet from the ground, then flashed an all-too-familiar smirk- "attend to that?"

Gladio seemed to have been hoping for that answer, and he nodded eagerly in response. He pressed back against Ignis and pinned him to the tree, smirking before leaning down to press still-hungry lips to Ignis' chin, his jaw, just below his ear... even _without_ whatever was making them go so crazy, those kisses were threatening to bring him right back to that crazed state.

Strong hands turned his body around, and one came to rest on his hip. For an all-too-long couple of seconds, Ignis wondered about the lack of contact from anything else but Gladio's hand, but when he reached into the small pack attached to the left thigh of his jeans (which had been cast to the ground somewhere amidst the desperate touches), Ignis knew why. The small, almost empty tube of lubricant told him exactly how many times they'd slipped away like this on this trip so far, but he honestly couldn't give less of a damn.

For a moment, he lamented the loss of the remaining contact when Gladio removed the remaining hand from his side. But a cursory glance found that Gladio was very, very quickly lubing himself up and unceremoniously casting the tube to the ground. His eagerness elicited another laugh from Ignis, but that quickly changed to a groan of approval when Gladio's body pinned him to the tree again and he felt the slick length of Gladio's interest pressed against him. With one hand still on Ignis' hip, Gladio reached the other down to properly line himself up. With a motion that was simultaneously gentle and not, Gladio arched his hips forward.

The familiar feeling of fullness definitely brought Ignis' own interest back, and in the limited space between him and the tree, he reached down to place a hand on his own length. Gladio's breaths matched his movement, Ignis' hand moved in the same time, and as Gladio's tip stroked against his sweet spot, it was all he could do to keep his voice down as so not to alert the whole woods around them of what was happening.

Gladio found his way to the edge first, with a groan that echoed just slightly into the empty space around them. His hips, too, rocked forward and back for as long as he could ride out his climax, and that provided Ignis with exactly as much time as he needed to reach a second one. With what was intended as a sigh of approval (which strangled short and came out as a a shuddering gasp) Ignis came once more, and relaxed where he was pinned against the tree. The breathed in opposite time; Ignis in, Gladio out, and vice-versa, enjoying the post-coital haze for a few moments longer.

It seemed as though Gladio was the one to collect himself first, so he rocked his hips slightly to pull himself from inside of Ignis, then turned Ignis in his arms to kiss him lazily. Ignis closed his eyes and smiled against Gladio's lips, his eyes fluttering open when they broke apart. "Well. I'm still not sure exactly what brought that on," he admitted, "but I honestly don't care."

Gladio gathered his pants from the ground, and Ignis leaned down to collect his own from around his ankles, pulling them back up. "Me either," Gladio agreed. "It'd been a little while, anyway." He smirked a lopsided smirk, one which always seemed to make Ignis' heart stutter a little bit.

He responded with a chuckle, though. "A few days," he retorted.

With a nod, Gladio said, "yeah. Too long."

Sharing a soft laugh, the pair of them headed back toward the camp site. Ignis' legs were a little wobbly still, yes, and Gladio used his clean hand to straighten his hair, but they needed to get back before Prompto and Noctis got suspicious. At least, Ignis had assumed that much, until they got within earshot of the camp.

Prompto's voice carried to the bottom of the hill. "Noct," he breathed, in what should have probably been an intone. "That... it feels nice."

Ignis and Gladio exchanged amused expression, and Gladio smiled a _highly_ entertained smile before beckoning Ignis away from the tent. A few steps away, Ignis murmured, "we forgot the mushrooms, anyway."


	2. The Inexperienced

Prompto was very well-acquainted with the heat settling in over his body. Usually, it ended with him asking the group to pull over for the night, to find a hotel or a camper to sleep in. Then he'd take a walk to somewhere private (and _usually_ safe) to take care of his problem.

What he _wasn't_ well-acquainted with, though, were all the odd and uncomfortable feelings that came _before_ it. When he was turned on, his body never, _ever_ got a skin crawly feeling. He never itched. He never felt sick. Whatever this was, it was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. And he had plenty of experience with physical wanting.

Too much, if he was entirely honest.

Prompto Argentum was, quite literally at this moment, painfully virginal. He'd been close to having sex once—or twice; one of which he wasn't sure really happened. The first time was with a girl that Noctis had set him up with in high school. They'd gone out to a movie and had dinner, and were about to get together in the back of her car when Prompto's phone went off with a text from Noctis—that he couldn't very well ignore—and the girl somehow got offended and kicked him out of her car. The second time, also in high school, Prompto wasn't entirely sure of a) the circumstances, and b) if it ever really happened outside of his imagination.

He did remember, though, breaking into King Regis' booze stash with Noctis. He'd spent a good amount of the hour before daring Noctis to do it. Sharing the wine cooler between the two of them shouldn't have been enough to get them as drunk as it did. Prompto remembered Noctis laughing far, far more than he ever had before, and maybe since. And he remembered being shirtless in Noctis' bed, with a vague memory of Noctis peppering kisses along his chest. Then he remembered hiding in the closet when Cor knocked on the bedroom door to ask Noctis a question.

What happened after that, though, was an absolute haze of drunken mystery.

Just thinking about it in that moment made Prompto's body heat up a little more.

Most of the time it was easy to cope with. He would steal a moment away, pretend that he was going into the tent to change the film in his camera or search for something in his backpack. Initially, the fact that it sometimes took a little longer than others was met with suspicion, but after awhile, the others just started dismissing it as him getting sidetracked somehow.

Today, though, he didn't have that luxury. Noctis had crawled into the tent when they got back, complaining about some kind of illness, so he couldn't hide away in the tent and take care of his problem. Ignis and Gladio had excused themselves to get some mushrooms or something, and Prompto was left alone, sitting in one of the camping chairs, struggling to find a comfortable position.

His jeans, as much as he liked them, weren't making the situation any easier, and he wriggled a little bit in the chair. A strangled sigh escaped when the fabric from his boxers brushed against his skin, but he quickly snapped his mouth shut, hoping beyond all hope that he hadn't caught Noctis' attention inside the tent. His eyes went down, catching sight of the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and breathing a long sigh through his nose—a feeble attempt at calming himself down—before letting his head fall back and look up at the sky. _Maybe... maybe I can sneak over to the Regalia,_ he thought to himself. _Put the top up and—and... and Ignis has the keys..._ Well, there went that plan. He groaned in frustration.

 _Maybe if I-_ he paused in his thoughts and looked off in the direction that Ignis and Gladio had gone off in- _just keep an eye out. I'll know if they're on the way and I can take care of this..._

Honestly, at this point, he was wound up to the point that his thought process was all the convincing it took. His fingers quickly unhooked the button and pulled down the zipper to his jeans, before sliding his hand down his abdomen and into his boxer shorts. He slid his thumb along his shaft, and with a shuddering breath, decided that this was the best decision he could possibly have made. Swallowing thickly, he cast his eyes around the area, ensuring that no one else was there, before wrapping his hand loosely around the base.

But before he made a move, something hit his ear. Something that made him jump, take his hand from his pants and cast his eyes around the area once more. It was a groan. A sudden cry want of that, if Prompto hadn't recognized the voice, sounded almost like could have possibly come from him with how hungry it was. That wasn't the biggest surprise, though. The biggest surprise was the voice's carrier.

It was Noctis, from inside the tent.

Generally speaking, Noctis was quieter than Prompto was. He talked, but usually he only gave the important information or responded to what others said to him. To hear him make a guttural cry like that out of nowhere... not only was it surprising, but it made Prompto's breath catch in his lungs. Against his volition—or maybe not completely—he found that he couldn't take his eyes from the door to the tent. It was zipped about eighty-five percent of the way, and what was open wasn't enough for Prompto to see inside, to see what made Noctis cry out like that. That fact only piqued his curiosity even more.

After that, it was like his legs moved without his brain's permission. He pulled himself out of the chair and slowly, quietly, crept toward the tent. As he walked, his brain told him that, _worst case scenario, I can just say what I usually say. Getting film. I'm just... getting film,_ he told himself as he reached down to pull back the zipper and open the door.

Except what awaited him on the other side was a complete and total shock. Noctis was laying back with a hand in his pants—not on his _own_ sleeping bag, but on Prompto's. Maybe that should have bothered him a little, but it didn't. Instead, he cast his eyes over the rest of Noctis' body. His eyes were closed, his mouth was open and his chest heaved heavily with every breath he took, and holy _hell_ was it the hottest thing that Prompto had seen in his life. 

Noctis opened his eyes, his gasp changing to one of shock as he pulled his hand from his pants and sat up quickly. "Prompto!" he blinked twice. "Damn it! I... I was just... uh..." Though he very clearly struggled to come up with something to end that sentence, Noctis just trailed off and let the words hang in the air, his face reddening with each second that passed since he finished speaking.

"It's okay..." Prompto replied. Why was it okay? He wasn't sure. Maybe because Prompto himself had been so close to doing the exact same thing outside of the tent, or maybe it was because if it had been possible for him to be more turned on than he had been before, seeing Noctis lying back like that would have done it.

After a few seconds of silence, Prompto swallowed thickly, slowly lowering himself to his knees on the ground turning his body to completely close the door to the tent. "Why, um..." he started, turning around to face Noctis again, his own cheeks heating up a bit. "Why are you on my sleeping bag, though?"

The question was simple, or at least Prompto thought so. Noctis' sleeping bag was further away, so maybe he didn't want to wait. Or maybe he just fell wherever he fell. Prompto expected either of those answers, but what he didn't expect was for Noctis just to shrug one shoulder, look to the ground and say, "don't know." His teeth raked over his lower lip, his eyes went to the floor.

It didn't really matter what the answer was, though, because now Noctis' eyes had come to rest on Prompto's jeans, which were still open. His cheeks heated up even more, and he moved his hands to re-zip and button his pants, when he heard Noctis speak again. "N-no," he shook his head. "Don't. Um..." An audible swallow followed, and he raised his head to meet Prompto's eyes. "Why don't you come sit with me?"

The question was so quiet that it should have been nearly inaudible, but Prompto heard it clear as a bell. He stepped forward, uncertain and uncoordinated movements making him trip on his feet and almost tumble to the floor. He managed to stay standing, though, until he reached Noctis. His eyes met Noctis' as he lowered himself to sit, and a little embarrassed smile crossed his face. He wasn't exactly sure what to say, but it seemed like Noctis had him covered.

"Were you... um... y-you know..." he asked, "too?"

It wasn't descriptive, but yes, Prompto did know exactly what he was asking. And he could have answered with words, sure. But as he sat there watching Noctis, taking in everything about him in this moment, the words completely drained from his brain. Noctis' cheeks were flushed pink, his lower lip a little swollen from when he'd teased it with his teeth. His hair was a little bit mussed—he must have been running his hand through it, Prompto figured—and he had a tiny glistening of sweat coating his forehead.

And by the Six, it was the sexiest thing Prompto had ever seen.

So, rather than answering with words, he swallowed thickly and reached over to place a hand on Noctis' thigh. For a second, he was concerned that Noctis was going to push him away, or stop him somehow. He was a little bit surprised when neither of those things happened, and all Noctis did was turn his head just slightly to glance at Prompto's hand. Prompto heard a slow exhale follow, and then turned his head to see Noctis looking at him in stunned silence.

Raising his hand a little bit higher, Prompto turned his eyes down to watch his hand once again. He could see the silhouette of Noctis' erection in his pants, and while he was curious, the slightest hint of nerves held him back from making the final move. It was stupid, because it was very obvious that Noctis was suffering just as much as he was. A suffering that got worse, almost, sitting as close to Noctis as he was right now. It was a little odd. Prompto knew that he'd always had a certain level of attraction to Noctis, but he never expected the attraction to be returned.

Or maybe Prompto was fooling himself. Maybe it was just his desperation to be touched that was allowing him to let Prompto touch him. The same desperation that was emboldening Prompto enough to let him do this right now.

As if he read Prompto's mind, though, Noctis' next movements brought all of those thoughts into question. Slowly, Noctis moved into Prompto's space and kissed him. Warm, swollen lips touched against Prompto's own, and the dizzying arousal that Prompto had been feeling seemed to triple. His hips bucked a little against his volition, and his breath hitched in his throat. "N-Noct, I..." he murmured against Noctis' lips when they finally broke for air.

"It's... it's okay," Noctis said again. "Get on your knees." His voice was commanding, but that just made him all the sexier. For a couple of seconds, he was dumbstruck, but eventually he moved to obey. Once he settled in, Noctis moved to match, positioning his body so that one of his thighs was between Prompto's legs.

The weight pressed against Prompto's dick, and made him whimper a guttural cry. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

Both of Noctis' hands made their way to Prompto's hips, and with a gentle tug, he urged Prompto to rock them against his thigh. Other than his rocking hips, he was frozen in position, staring dumbly down at their entwined bodies. Even fully clothed, it felt absolutely amazing. "Noct," he panted out, trying to keep his tone quiet, but utterly failing. "That... it feels nice."

Nice. Nice was the understatement of the _century_ , but it was what it was. He met Noctis' eyes, watching as he nodded his head eagerly. A few strands of dark bangs fell into his face, and he leaned forward to catch Prompto's lips again in a surprisingly tender kiss. After a couple seconds of simple lip to lip contact, Noctis' tongue touched Prompto's lips, urging them open. He eagerly obeyed, gliding their tongues against each other as his hips stuttered back and forth against Noctis' leg. It wasn't graceful, not in the least, but Noctis didn't seem to care, and Prompto _definitely_ didn't care.

Just as soon as Prompto got used to balancing the kissing and the movements of his hips, though, Noctis broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Prompto's. "Do you," he gasped out, his voice stuttering a little bit, "do you remember that night in high school? When we got drunk in my room?"

Prompto, eyes open and watching a sweat bead glide down Noctis' cheek, nodded dumbly. "U-uh huh," he replied, reaching his arms around Noctis' body and letting his hands come to rest on his ass to pull him closer.

Noctis, though, leaned forward, putting his lips right against Prompto's ear. "I wasn't drunk. And you were so hot that night. I wanted to fuck you so hard that you couldn't walk straight for a week," he whispered, his lips brushing against Prompto's ear as they moved to form each word. 

And that was all Prompto could take. He came then, with a cry that was only silenced by his head against Noctis' shoulder. Prompto, breathing hard and heavy, moved his hands from Noctis' ass and let them rest on his shoulders, holding him close as he rode the waves. His heart pounded and his chest heaved as the pleasant feeling of 'getting there' overcame him. When he finally started coming down, he felt Noctis' lips on his neck.

Opening his eyes, he looked Noctis over. Against his thigh, he could very much feel that Noctis still hadn't reached his peak. Before he could open his mouth to speak, though, Noctis kissed him once more. Prompto, his body still surging with energy, used the advantage of his position to push Noctis back down on his sleeping bag. Noctis' lips were still on his, but he broke the kiss to move so that he was laying next to Noctis on the sleeping bag. "Did you really want to have sex with me that night?" he asked, his hand coming to rest on the seam of Noctis' pants.

With a nod, Noctis looked at Prompto with hungry eyes. "I've wanted to ever since."

Swallowing thickly, a lopsided grin crossed Prompto's face as he reached his hand beneath the hem of Noctis' pants and beneath his boxers. Ghosting his fingertips over Noctis' skin brought forth the _hottest_ groan that Prompto had ever heard in his life. He breathed a soft laugh, unsure of exactly what he was supposed to say in response. So, instead of speaking, he loosely wrapped his hand around Noctis' dick, and started with a slow, languid stroke up its length. "You could have, you know," he whispered into Noctis' ear. "That night or any other night that you wanted to."

Noctis' body shuddered. "R-really?" he asked.

"Mmm," Prompto hummed an affirmative reply, squeezing a little bit tighter and speeding his attentions up a bit. "You definitely could have."

As Noctis struggled to reply, his erratic breathing echoing out in the silence, Prompto looked him over and a smirk crossed his face. Somehow, Noctis looked even hotter than he had before. His face glistened with sweat and his eyes were closed as he neared the edge. He could have probably had sex with anyone he wanted, but he'd wanted to have Prompto since they were teenagers. Prompto wasn't sure what he'd done right, but he was sure of one thing: Noctis _definitely_ could have had him any time, if he'd asked. "Maybe you should ask next time. Maybe I'll let you."

Apparently, those were the magic words. He watched Noctis' eyes slam shut and his back arch up off of the floor of the tent, orgasm rippling through his body. As soon as Noctis let out a cry, Prompto felt the sticky heat of his friend's release on his hand. He crashed his lips into Noctis', silencing any further cries and slowing his hands' motions down while he let Noctis ride out his climax.

When the kiss broke, Prompto looked at Noctis with tired eyes. He pulled his hand from Noctis' pants and wiped it on his own; they were dirty, anyway, with his own release. They'd have to change before Gladio and Ignis got back, to avoid any awkward questions, but that was fine. For the moment, though, he shucked his pants and tossed them off to the side. "So, will you tell me now? Why you were on my sleeping bag?" he asked, putting his elbow on the ground and resting his head on his hand.

Noctis' cheeks turned pink again as he slid his pants off, too. Well, they'd been pink already, actually. But the pink deepened a little bit. "I was... uh... imagining you. Here. Imagining that it was you, instead of... you know..." He raised his hand.

"Oh," Prompto responded, surprise lining his features. So, Noctis really _had_ wanted him. Not that he doubted the words, it was just still surprising all the same.

With a shy nod, Noctis glanced toward the ceiling. "I'm um... I'm not sure what happened. Why I suddenly couldn't hold it in anymore."

Much to his surprise—though it wasn't really surprising in the least, because like he said, Noctis really _could_ have anyone he wanted—Prompto nodded, too. "Me either," he answered, then paused. "Suddenly, all I could think of was getting off. But, um..." It was Prompto's turn to look away, as he said, "I'm... I'm glad it happened."

Noctis turned Prompto to look at him again, nodding his agreement. "Me too," he agreed, before pressing their lips together once more.


End file.
